


Something Missing

by queens_smoak



Series: Revelations [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Gifted (TV 2017), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I Tried, It's shit, and i uploaded this just hours before the next ep drops im so sorry, it's rushed ik, my body is 80 percent caffeine and sugar, ugh ugh ugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 23:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12715446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queens_smoak/pseuds/queens_smoak
Summary: Post episode 6.A peek into John's thoughts after Clarice leaves and a deeper delve into the conflicts he faces as a leader.AKA y'all thunderbird is dealing with a lot of issues, he needs a break.





	Something Missing

**Author's Note:**

> I know, my lazy ass takes a long time to post shit. But here's the second part to revelations!! You don't need to read the first part to understand this one btw. It's from John's pov, so that's different. 
> 
> I've been planning this fic for a week now but actually sat down to write it this morning yikes, so it's a little rushed so the narrative is probably a little choppy and awkward. I'll fix that later. But i wanted to have it posted before episode 7 aired because what's the point if the canon comes out before my take on it?
> 
> This prompt was suggested by @bisexualblink on tumblr, hope you like it!!

The words on the pages in front of him blurred, floating across his vision line as he applied pressure to his temple hoping it will help relieve the incessant throbbing plaguing his head.

John leaned back in his chair.

Back in the Marine days, when he was a soldier, he only had one thing to worry over—the person firing bullets right in front of him.  In a situation like that, he knew exactly what to do. A right hook here, a headlock there, then a snap of the neck and they're dead.

But spearheading a movement against mutant persecution was a completely different story. He was no longer a foot soldier manning the front lines. This time...he was making all the decisions. Every dead mutant would be on him. Every child separated from their family would be his fault.

And with Sentinel Services closing in, he’s been backed to a corner. Lorna wants to fight, there’s no doubt about it. But is that really the best choice to make? Wars have innocent casualties.

He rose from his chair and walked towards the edge of the crater in the middle of the second floor, overlooking the packed deck beneath. Sentinel Services may not have found the Headquarters yet, but they’ve found the other smaller compounds—forcing the mutants harbored there to go on the run and seek refuge in the only place they knew they could trust.

Here.

Was he really going to put all these peoples’ lives in danger to fight back?

It was an impossible decision.

A deep sigh of indignation left his lungs as he ran a hand through his hair.

John observed in silence as Shatter distributed the toys he and Caitlin found in storage out to the kids. The Headquarters was overflowing—there weren’t enough beds or food, and the medicine from the time Marcos and Caitlin raided the clinic is almost obsolete as more and more injured mutants show up at the base. And they couldn’t go outside without alerting the government. So they just had to wait and do nothing as all their supplies ran out.

 But even as the hideout bustled with people to the point it felt like the Headquarters was really a pack of sardines and his mind was occupied with a million thoughts running a mile a minute about the threat of their safety...he felt as if something was missing.

A loss weighing on him that he couldn’t _quite_ put a finger on.

John shifted his gaze to a head of red hair.

Dreamer was rearranging the little contents they had left on their rationing cabinets.

Nothing was the same between them anymore. Everything had changed.

He tried to pretend like it didn’t so he could have some consistency in his life because everything else was so un-tethered. But what else could he expect living a life as a mutant fugitive? Always on the run. Always ready to drop everything and hide.

Without a real home; unable to love anyone or anything because that meant a target on their back—another weakness for Sentinel Services to exploit.

His mind stopped in its tracks and backpedaled as a sudden realization dawned on him. This must be what Clarice is feeling at this very moment. It’s all she must have known her whole life.

Something was missing.

And it was a teleporting purple haired girl with a mouth like a loaded gun and a tongue as sharp as a knife.  

“John, we need you in here,” Marcos calls out from the Main Communications room.

At the sound of his voice, John snaps deep out of thought. He doesn’t have time for distractions, he thinks, shaking his head before quickly walking over to where Marcos and Sage were huddled together above monitor screens, conferring discreetly.

John halts in front of the two and turns to face Marcos when he notices the distressed frown etched between his brows, “What’s wrong?” John’s voice is hard with emotion he doesn’t know how to express, so he pushes them down and stomachs them because he has more important things to worry about.

“The perimeter they set is tightening up,” Marcos points at a screen above him, showcasing a map where the circle representing the Sentinel Services blockade is shrinking in size—and at the center lay the Headquarters.

“The chance they might find us rose from 59 percent to 77,” Sage’s eyes betray her monotonous calculating tone—they’re frantic and unsettled and...Looking to him, “what are we supposed to do? We can’t move a crowd this large when they’ve their eyes on us. It’ll draw too much attention. And we’ll be caught.”

With the help of Reed, the Underground decoded all the messages relaying between the Sentinels. They had a list of the names, places, operations, and teams Jace uses to communicate, written on a piece of paper, taped to the wall beside them.

Marcos clears his throat, and softly adds, “That’s not all, John.” His dark eyes are trained on Thunderbird intently, “They’re putting out two more teams in the field, one from the east and the other from the west.”

John tilts his head, squinting his eyes in suspicion, “So? What’s so special about them?”

“We have reason to believe these teams are made up of mutants.”

Sage and Marcos share a knowing look, before Sage speaks up, pursing her lips, “it’s highly likely Pulse is in one of the two teams.”

_It’s all too much._

Too many things are all going wrong at the same time and it’s getting harder for him to hold it all together.

John’s staring at the bright flashing lights of the monitors in front of him, lost in his thoughts—they’re hurtling through his head—Pulse, Jace, Dreamer, _Clarice_.

And for the first time in years, he loses control of his powers.

Next thing he knew his mind is flooded with so many sounds from all around him it mixes into a shrill white noise.  As his senses are attacked with overstimulation, he grips the edge the desk a little too hard and splinters the wood in the process.

Hunched over, he closes his eyes and recalls what he was taught.

_Focus._

He tunes out the sound of police sirens miles from here, laughter from the park nearby, someone talking on their phone, the bark of a dog, Marcos and Sage’s stunned voices of concern.

_Find a fixed point and focus on it._

_Focus. Focus. Focus._

It repeats in his head like an all too familiar mantra.

In all the chaos, his mind searches for something to ground himself to—to stabilize his powers and calm him down. He’s flicking through each of the voices, like a radio flicks through channels, searching for the right one.

When he locates it, his vision changes as a series of images flash before his eyes. It’s brief, but it’s enough to catch a glimpse of her—trudging through a grim abandoned building on her own, a backpack slung over her shoulders.

And just as abruptly as it all started, it ceased. John’s malfunctioning powers alleviated and everything faded into the background once more.

When John opens his eyes again, dazed and hazy, he finds Marcos and Sage arched over, staring back at him in shock.

“What the hell just happened?” Marcos gaped.

John blinked. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it out loud.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged.

“Are you insane? _Don’t worry about it?”_ He whisper-yells. “ I’ve _never_ seen you do that before. John...you can talk to me, is everything okay?”

 “Now’s not the time.”

Without allowing Marcos to utter another word about the matter, he faces Sage, “Appoint look-outs on surrounding areas around the building, make sure there aren’t any blind spots. Get Lorna and Reed, we need to have an escape plan just in case.”

Sage gives him a curt nod in response and turns on her heels to leave.

When she’s out of sight, John swiftly walks out of room himself, heading directly towards his quarters. Marcos follows.

“John.”

He ignores it.

“John!” Marcos’s voice rings in his ears, but like he said, _now’s not the time_ , so he keeps walking, but Marcos quickly latches onto his elbow.

And while Marcos couldn’t make John move even if he wanted to, with a stubborn huff, he turns around, “What, Marcos? You need to make this quick, I have to leave.”

For a moment, Marcos remains silent. Then, his face morphs into an expression of absolute disbelief.

 _Now_ he’s shouting, “Where are you going?” When he doesn’t receive an answer, he scoffs, “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but we’re in the middle of something and we need you here.”

John averts his gaze, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but I have to do this. Besides, Lorna’s got this. I trust her.”

“I trust her too! But you can’t go out now. Not when they’re looking for you—not when they’re swarming the streets.”

“I’ll be careful.”

With that, he starts walking away.

This time, Marcos stays put. He knows better than to argue—once John has his mind set, there’s _literally_ no stopping him.

“At least tell me what you plan on doing,” he throws his hands up in defeat.

At that, John looks over his shoulder, “I’m going to bring Clarice back.”


End file.
